Police Party Time!
by Balin Lord of Moria
Summary: After commemorating the deceased on Peace Officers Memorial Day, cops from all over television programming get together for the party of their lives. Rated for some harsh language and a few adult themes. Not a wild party, but interesting enough for any lover of cop shows. A third genre might be humor.


**Summary:** After commemorating the deceased on Peace Officers Memorial Day, cops from all over television programming get together for the party of their lives.

**A/N:** I admit I haven't seen all of the cop TV shows whose characters appear in this fanfic, so forgive me if some of them are a little OOC. I'm trying my best to make them at least seem plausible. The majority of words seen in italics are the names of cop TV series and/or the characters from the series.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the cop TV shows in this fanfic.

* * *

**Police Party Time!  
****Chapter 1****  
**

The crowd of diverse police officers, most of them plainclothes, but a fair share of uniformed ones, too, stood at attention as _Hill Street Blues_ Sergeant Phil Esterhaus finished addressing them about the need to solemnly celebrate Peace Officers Day and National Police Week.

"As detectives and officers of the law," he said, "we must all remember to keep in mind that other officers have given their lives for the fair people, as well as for us, and make sure that we never forget our duty to put others' needs ahead of our own. No matter how many people hate or resent us, and no matter how many of us are corrupted by racism, greed, or any other vice of society, without police, America will not stand on its feet, and we'll be in worse chaos than we would be if we didn't do our job, or if half the population rose up against us.

"Well, that's all," he concluded, "I thank all of you for a successful portrayal of law enforcement. At ease! Eat, drink, and be merry, because in twelve hours, you all have to go back to work!"

Policemen and policewomen stirred, and they began to walk around the room in the precinct, some looking for snacks, some for drinks, and some for conversation pieces. One of the first to find the latter was Bill Rawls of the Maryland State Police, a man of _The Wire_.

He frowned uncertainly at many of the officers around him. To a tough, no-nonsense cop like him, the majority of them were too easygoing, and even a little soft. In his eyes, they would never survive long in his district. But then he saw a policeman who looked like the type who was as tough as him, perhaps even tougher. He walked up to Sergeant Hank Voight of the _Chicago P.D._

"Hey, Rawls," said Voight as he approached. "Nice night for a party, ain't it?"

Rawls replied, "I don't go to parties. I'm here because I'm a cop, not because I want to see the ladies."

"Yeah," said Voight, "That's not exactly your field, is it?" Rawls frowned.

"Hey," said Voight submissively, "Just making conversation, pal."

"Policemen like me don't have pals," said Rawls, "They have cronies. Cronies who are often scared of us. But even I must admit, you're not so soft yourself. Yeah, I know about how you are very rough with your fucking suspects, as well as any jackasses on your own force."

"That's simply my way of getting the job done," said Voight. "My motto as a cop is, 'Don't fuck with my city.' The people of Chicago need to rest easy at night, and I'm not gonna sit around while some bureaucrats and slothful superiors slow down the justice system. As for my habit of torturing suspects, well, they usually deserve what they get."

"Ha!" barked Rawls. "I'll drink to that." He raised a beer as if in a toast.

"Let's make that three of us," said Voight. "Hey, Antonio! Come here!"

A young Chicago detective came up to them. "Antonio Dawson, meet Bill Rawls of the Maryland State Police. He's a guy who knows what it's like to get down and dirty with the scum of the city."

"Nice to meet you, Bill," said Dawson.

Rawls gave a sarcastic smile. "Mutual, I'm sure."

* * *

In another part of the precinct, a couple of women, approaching middle age but still relatively attractive, were gossiping about men and spending time with them. Their names were _Cagney &amp; Lacey_. Christine Cagney, and Mary Beth Lacey, to be more specific. At the moment, they were taking occasional glances at some of the male officers and detectives around them.

"Come on, Christine," said Lacey, "That guy is one of _The Unusuals_. He can't possibly be your dream date out of all these men. Why not try someone more obviously handsome, like that guy from the _S.W.A.T.?"_

"I'm telling you, Mary," argued Cagney, "Eric Delahoy's just the right guy. He isn't a typical cop, due to his uniqueness. His eccentricity with death is something I could take care of if we got together. Cops, even women like us, should do things for other police officers, too."

"I'm not so sure, Cagney," said Lacey, "I think he's too far gone to be saved by someone who's a stranger to him, and besides, why should we do a favor for a guy who has a brain tumor? We're cops, not surgeons, you know."

"Hey, ladies," said a young man's voice from behind, "Might one of us be your type?"

Then turned, startled, and saw a pair of young men in casual clothes and jackets. One looked world-wise, while the other looked like he needed some cheering up.

"Uh, don't we know you fellas?" asked Lacey.

"Well, you should," said the world-wise one. "We're _Starsky &amp; Hutch_. I'm Kenneth Hutchinson, though everybody calls me 'Hutch,' and this is-"

"I'm his pal and partner on the police force, Michael Starsky," the other man said for him.

"Oh yeah," said Cagney, "We've heard of you. Listen, guys, I appreciate the offer, but I've got a date with destiny, and that Delahoy guy over there is it." She started to walk away, but Starsky stopped her.

"What makes you think destiny chose _him_ for you?" he asked. "I have an idea you'll want to please me more than him, because I'm a man with a mood, not a death wish."

Cagney looked him up and down. "No thanks," she replied, "I think your pal Hutch is good enough for cheering you up, just like Mary Beth here always gets me out of a jam."

"Come on," said Starsky, "I'd like to bed a pretty lady someday soon, and I'd rather she be another cop than a hooker. Besides, I bet you look almost as good naked as a few of the younger girls we've encountered."

Lacey stepped forward suddenly and slapped him. A second later, Cagney joined in.

"Pal," Lacey said loudly, "Cagney here is not for sale, and she doesn't date people who quickly bring up the appearance of a woman's body!"

"That's right," said Cagney, "I date men _with_ respect, not without it!"

Hutch stepped between his partner and the women cops. "Take it easy, ladies," he said, "We're street-smart cops, that's all. Sometimes I dream of the same thing, but Starsky sometimes goes over the top because he's naturally moody. Look, we'll leave you alone for now, and you can get back to what you were doing before, right?"

Lacey stared for a moment, and then nodded. "Right," she said. "Now shoo."

_Starsky &amp; Hutch_ moved away to find something else to do. _Cagney &amp; Lacey_ watched them go with a little exasperation. Lacey said to Cagney, "Now where were we?"

Cagney shook her head. "I think that after all that, I don't wanna discuss men any more tonight. At least not as potential dates."

Lacey shrugged. "You're the boss this time."

* * *

Suddenly gunfire echoed throughout the precinct. The police got ready to defend themselves and the precinct from an ambush, but then it turned out that a bald-headed "tough guy" detective was practicing his aim on a target he had secretly set up on a strong wall. His name was Vic Mackey, and he was proud of his favorite badge, _The Shield_.

"All right!" he shouted, "Let's get this party on the road! Cops shouldn't be playing around and chattering like monkeys! They should be out there out on the streets, arresting and/or killing the sons-of-bitches that think they're society's answer to elitist bastards! Who's with me?"

Everyone stared. Everyone, that is, except for Lieutenant Frank Drebin of _Police Squad!_ He was sitting near Mackey's location with Captain Ed Hocken, noisily eating and drinking some sort of snack, until Mackey kicked him, trying to rouse him from his slow-witted self-absorption and make him aware of what was going on. Drebin's clumsy reflexes kicked in and his arm shot out and tripped Mackey. Finally becoming aware of the ludicrousness going on, Frank and Ed took Mackey's gun from him and got ready to cuff him, but Sergeant Esterhaus intervened.

"There's no need to arrest him, Lieutenant," he said, "He's just a loose cannon who feels the need to see action constantly. He won't bug us again."

"All right then," said Frank, putting away the cuffs. "I'm sure he won't. Piece of cake."

"No thanks, Frank," said Ed, "I've already got enough food here."

Mackey went over to the cooler, hoping to find at least one beer left. Frank and Ed resumed their nasty slurping and smacking as they sat down again.

"I don't know who's worse," said Andy Sipowicz of _NYPD Blue_, "Mackey or Drebin."

"What a wacko!" said Philip K. Fish, a Sergeant of Captain _Barney Miller_.

"What an _asshole!"_ said John _Luther_.


End file.
